What We Inherit

I have been interested in genealogy for many years. My grandfather’s Mormon family heritage is pretty well-documented with lots of stories about the Pioneers who helped settle Utah. (My grandfather was one of twenty-three children.)

My dad’s mother was Irish. I traced her side back a couple of generations, but like many Irish-Americans, the early records seem to have been lost.

Larry’s aunt did a great job of documenting his father’s family. She even wrote several articles for a publication in celebration of the centennial of her hometown. His mother’s mother was a Woolworth, but not the rich branch. Their family heritage has been traced back to Charlemagne. Larry laughed at all the European royalty in his tree. But when we had our DNA sequenced, the findings tended to support everything I had found. (He is descended from both leaders of the Battle of Hastings—William the Conqueror and King Harold—and many, many other kings, queens, and other royalty.)

I knew my maternal grandfather’s family was from Methven, Scotland. We visited the town when we were there in 1995. His branch moved to Clyde Bank, a famous shipbuilding city, before they emigrated to Canada and then to the US.

My maternal grandmother claimed that her family was 100% Scottish. I’m sure she didn’t know about her second great-grandmother. I received copies of the family records from her family’s Bible from a cousin on that side some years after my grandmother died. Her great-grandmother was listed as “Grace Smith from County Cork.” I was tickled when I found this, thinking how disturbed Grandma would have been to know this.

I knew her father was a school teacher and a member of the school board. I was proud to know that her family valued education.

I have had a membership in Ancestry.com for many, many years. I’ve uploaded all of the material I received from Larry’s aunt and my Mormon ancestors there, along with the family pictures and stories I have acquired. I have also been able to link to the work of others.

Last week, I got one of the best surprises ever. I discovered that my fifth-great-grandfather on my maternal grandmother’s line was William Blackwood, an editor and publisher. What a fascinating man.

In 1804, he opened a store where he sold old and curious books. From there, he moved into publishing. In 1817, he began to publish Edinburgh Monthly Magazine. It eventually became Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine. His magazine was the first to publish work by an American, an essay by John Neal.

It also published many famous English writers: Joseph Conrad, George Eliot, and E.M. Forster, among others. After William died, various other family members continued the business. It lasted until 1980, when it was amalgamated. (No members of my immediate family were involved.)

For the last twenty years or so, I have not only been an author, but I edited for several independent publishers. Throughout my career, I wrote policies and procedures for every job I ever had. One boss used to plop down in the chair in my office and say, “Make me sound good.” He’d then tell me what he wanted to say in a letter to a vendor. I’d produce a formal business letter to which he attached his signature.

Another company I worked for insisted that a copy of every piece of correspondence—including memos and documentation of phone conversations—be sent to a group called “Presentation.” If there were any errors, the group gave the author feedback. As usual, I created a lot of documentation. One day I had a call from the head of Presentation. “Don’t send me any more of your writing. It’s always right, and I don’t need to take the time to look at it.”

A few years later, I began to ghost write corporate procedures for other company leaders. My phone rang. A laugh was followed by: “I thought I told you not to send me any more of your writing. Even though _____’s name is on this, I recognize your writing.” By this time, we were using word processing. The documents were produced in a separate group from my originals. “I don’t have a choice. They distribute everything.”

Periodically, I’d hear from him whenever I started creating documents from someone new. He just wanted to let me know he still recognized my writing, and we’d laugh.

As an editor, I have been privileged to work on some wonderful books. I’m known as a tough editor because I do both content and line editing. I love doing it, even though I rarely charge enough. The satisfaction of helping someone fulfill their lifelong dream is worth it.

Finding William Blackwood pleased me. I had a sense of connection to him. My love of words, editing, and publishing didn’t come to me from nowhere. Somehow, I had a sense of inheritance—intangible, but nevertheless real.

Do you have any characteristics inherited from your ancestors? What are they, and how do they impact your life today?

Cowboys in My Family

My grandfather was a cowboy. His grandparents immigrated to the United States in 1853 from Denmark to help settle the Utah Territory with the Mormons. The family arrived in New Orleans by ship and made the arduous journey over the plains. (Their trip was documented, and I received a copy of this hand-written account from my aunt several years ago.)

They settled in Spring City, south of Salt Lake. We visited the town in 2012 on a long road trip. After miles of barren desert, I was amazed to see trees and lots of green as we neared the area.

My great-grandfather, Marinus Lund, settled a farm and raised cattle. He even had his own brand.

It had been pressed into fresh concrete, and years later, one of my great uncles (by marriage) made a rubbing of it. I’d love to know where the original brand is, if it still exists.

My grandfather was one of twenty-three children. His mother died when he was seven, after giving birth to thirteen children. His father married a woman who already had six children, and they had four more together. Only two of the twenty-three died in infancy. The rest went on to live full lives—with many marriages. However, they were not polygamous.

Marinus’s family lived in a cabin on the farm. One of my second cousins made a sketch of it.

I can’t imagine raising twenty-three children in such a small place. We tried to find it when we visited, but apparently, it no longer exists. The town historian found the lot number from old tax records after we left. Maybe we’ll go back sometime and see if we can locate it.

My grandfather was a blacksmith and built a forge in his back yard in California. He used it well into his eighties.

Shortly after his marriage, he moved to Nevada, where my father was born. Two years later, they moved to Alberta, Canada to join his brother, Mariuns DeLoss Lund (known as DeLoss).

During their time in Canada, my aunts were born. For some reason, they decided to move to California.

Because my father died when I was very young, and he and his sisters were raised by other relatives, I never knew the reasons for either move.

DeLoss’s son, Clark Lund, became a professional cowboy, and competed in the Calgary Stampede. He won the All-Around in Calgary in 1939. In 1990, he was inducted into the Canadian Professional Rodeo Hall of Fame.

Clark’s son, DC Lund (Darwin Clark), a veterinarian, also became a professional cowboy. He was named 1965 Southern Alberta Steer Wrestling Champion and was named All-around Champion in 1974. In 2010, he was inducted into the Canadian Professional Rodeo Hall of Fame.

His wife, Patty Ivins (Lund), is a Calgary Stampede pioneer. She was one of the first barrel racing champions in 1959 and 1960.

Their son, Corb (Corby) Lund, competed as a child. However, his interest turned to music. He is famous in Canada as a country-western artist. You can find videos of him on YouTube.

When she was little, our daughter, Kim, was obsessed with all things cowboy. For her second birthday, her godfather gave her a cowgirl outfit. She wanted to wear it every day. She mounted her Wonder Horse and rode for hours.

Now she lives in Texas and wears her boots most of the time. She says she always felt at home there. Maybe she comes by her cowboy roots naturally.